That Girl from Derwent dwells on the value of religion this Christmas.
That Girl from Derwent has learned a few more things about prejudice since moving up North.
That Girl From Derwent reckons if you're going to be offensive, you should find a better reason.
That Girl from Derwent considers why it is that some words have wider implications than others.
Misanthropy is a generalized dislike, distrust, disgust, contempt and hatred of the Human species, human nature, or society….
Basically, I just hate people.
Kids.
I don’t like them.
I mean why do people have them? Loud, smelly, tiny creatures buzzing around, disrupting your sleep and draining your wallet, I question my parents’ decision-making process. Someone to look after you when you’re old you may say.
Hopefully when I reach 65 I’ll have the sense to try and drink myself to death on a cruise around Italy.
I wouldn’t say I’m against people having kids. Well, maybe there should be a screening process; maybe if you are bored and 14 it isn’t the greatest idea – or if you’ve appeared on Jeremy Kyle.
But anyway this isn’t about kids existing; it’s about when they exist near me.
As I said some people have children and I’m not strictly against this, I just don’t see the point in having a miniature drunk following me around who happens to have some of my DNA, screaming, puking and pooing – without even the occasional moment of drunken man magic. So, why do these people who have children have to expose me to their vile spawn? Dragging them around clothes shops, which is a struggle for me anyway; taking them to the cinema, where they scream and run up the aisles and even taking them to the pub. The pub, where I go to be a bit bawdy and “sweary” with my chums – I don’t want to have to mute my stories like I’m Scrubs on E4 in the day: it ruins the story.
It seems to me that kids are everywhere adults are these days; and the delightful parents have the skill to just blank out the ear-shattering noise their sprog can create on a mid-morning bus, while the rest of us wince in pain and turn up our iPods. Can’t they leave them at home?
Some smart arse will probably say they can’t afford a baby sitter, well either don’t have the kiddiewinks or don’t come out at all: stay in with the tiny tearaway, I’ve had enough of the little bastards.
Last week I had to smile (that’s a big deal for me) so someone’s little bundle of joy could take my photo on their DS, presumably to draw a funny pair of specs on me or other such larks.
Kids should be seen and not heard? No, don’t let them leave the house till they’re 18. That’s teen drinking and pregnancy out the way too (Davy Cameron I’m available for work).
Next week, weird trousers? T shirts with writing on them? Who knows, I have a lot to get through.
Now, sod off.
People with kids have as much right to be at the cinema as you do. Would you have liked to have been confined to the house until you were 18? Didn't think so. Lighten up.
My favourite thing about this blog is that you call David Cameron, 'Davy'.
Welcome to the blog section, brilliant first article
Dude, lighten up. I love seeing kids around. I always pull faces at them and try and make them laugh. Help out the parents if they're struggling, don't whine.
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